


The Adventures Of Marcus Johnson

by TheJoysOfAMultishipper (Amemah)



Series: Farcy happened. I don't know. They are very cute. [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: During Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, Nick Fury Has Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2586884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amemah/pseuds/TheJoysOfAMultishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, Sergeant Johnson wouldn't be there to step in when worst came to worst. This was not that day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventures Of Marcus Johnson

**Author's Note:**

> Yo!
> 
> (Quickly before we get started, I might go through this later and fix some mistakes if I find them.)
> 
> Hah, look what happened. I wanted to try writing someone coming together and Farcy is the only thing I'm capable of writing right now, apparently. I definitely prefer writing established relationship, if only because I'm so used to shipping things that will probably never become canon because of stupid homophobia. And you know, you get enough of UST on screen, so I just don't see the point of bringing it into fanon. But still, I had to try, seeing as I'm writing a freaking slow-burn (I love it and hate it and I don't know anymore. Mostly I love it though, I always hate writing anyway, so it doesn't mean anything.)
> 
> Anyway, wow lot of text sorry, this is... I don't really know, but I like it? A little bit. And if you don't know who Marcus Johnson is, he's Nick Fury's first name or something? Read his wiki-page, it's much better explained there.
> 
> Also, I spent like 25 minutes reading about dog tags, so yeah... Don't say I don't take this seriously. Hah.
> 
> This one is kinda serious, but yeah. I like it, liked writing it at least.
> 
> Let me know what you think?  
> Tumblr: amemah.tumblr.com
> 
> Hugs and kisses <3

“Miss Lewis?” Maria Hill entered Director Fury’s office, closing the door behind her. Her emotions were carefully concealed under years of training and the blank canvas some people might consider a face. Darcy had never really done that, though. There were too few lines around her mouth from former smiles for it to be considered her true nature, and she wondered if anyone even knew Maria Hill. She thought Nicholas did, and as far as Darcy knew he was the only one. If he did, Darcy was sure he recognized the privilege for what it was.

 

“Yes, Agent Hill?” Darcy had always been an open book, so her voice was rough. The Deputy Director didn’t mention the streaks of pink down her cheeks; clear evidence of the way the younger woman had fallen apart in her boss’ office. If she had looked up from the dog tags her fingers were fiddling with, she would have noticed the twitch in Maria’s shoulder. As it was, she was too busy tracing the serial number with her thumb.

 

“Sergeant Marcus Johnson is requesting your help,” Maria said, and was proud of the way Darcy didn’t react with the exception of a short stop in her breathing.

“Tell the Sergeant I’m booked for the unforeseeable future, busy planning a _funeral_ ,” Darcy spat, trying to keep her heartbeat under some semblance of control. Usually she had the Director’s voice in her ear to keep her focused, but now that thought just made her angry. _Angrier_.

“He says not to bother,” Maria said, and figured it was okay to let her lips curve into something of a smile. Well, a shadow of one anyway.

“If you’re so well informed, _Agent_ , could you maybe tell me what sort of burial he would like? These don’t specify.”

 

Darcy threw the necklace onto the desk, finding some perverse pleasure in the clang of the metal meeting the glass. _Johnson, Marcus_ , the tag read at the top. _232-19-6527_ , the serial number Darcy knew by heart now. She elected not to think about how she was probably the only one who knew except the man himself. _AB-_ , the carving continued, because Nicholas Fury, Jr. was nothing if not a _special_ son of a bitch. He had made Darcy in control of check-ins to see how many bags of his blood type there was available at all times, prompting Darcy to roll her eyes every time she was told so. She wasn’t laughing when she ordered Agent Carter to get her ass to the blood bank in Pierce County, knowing they had just stocked up. Darcy was too busy praying to a God she wasn’t sure she believed in to even be happy they followed her orders. Speaking of religion, the last line read _NO PREFERENCE_. Director Fury had told her his mother was a Protestant, but he didn’t believe enough to consider himself religious. Though when it was 2 in the morning and they were sitting on the couch in his office, Darcy quietly thought that he seemed more like Nick than a Fury.

 

“Again. There’s no need.” Maria repeated, finding some relief in the way Darcy didn’t look like she’d been run over by a truck anymore.

“I always wondered why I was in charge of cover-up, but I guess this explains it,” Darcy sighed, standing up from the chair. Some of the color had returned to her cheeks, making the red of her lips somewhat less glaring.

“Just get to the bunker.” Maria commanded, stepping out of the office now that her mission was over.

“Oh come on! Not even a code-name?” Was shouted after her, and only Maria’s training kept her from laughing.

“Keep your voice down, Miss Lewis!”

 

“You idiot. You actual fucking _stupid_ idiot.” Darcy glared down at her boss, holding onto her anger. It was difficult when she saw all the bandages and wires and tubes everywhere, but not even in this state could she bring herself to call him weak. Nicholas didn’t believe in that word, and when she saw the aware look in his eyes - even with all the drugs and the bullets and just the general destruction in his system - she didn’t either.

“I’m really sorry for being boxed in by HYDRA-agents. I’ll be more careful when deciding where to get shot next time.”

“Good. It’s not that difficult, is it.” Darcy said, grateful to hear his ability to be a smartass was still intact. “I’m keeping the dog tags, by the way.” She sat down at the bed, holding up a cup of water for him. The dirty look he sent the pink straw was the reason she knew he’d be fine.

“They’re yours if you want them.” He answered once he gulped down some water. Darcy didn’t mention how his voice softened (like it always does when you’re together, a voice helpfully supplied in the back of her mind.), and he didn’t mention the tear trailing down her cheek. She brushed it off with a huff, and took his hand in hers. There was no one else than Maria who could see them, and she was too busy talking with Captain Rogers to pay them any mind.

Darcy tightened her hold on his hand, taking comfort in how his pulse was going strong in his wrist. She intentionally decided not to think about how much more comforting the way his thumb stroked hers was.

 

“I’m really angry at you,” Her blue eyes held his brown, but despite her words there was more worry than rage there. Nicholas knew she cared about him, and in his own way he cared about her too. It was impossible not to, with the way she wormed her way into his heart with white chocolate-rocky roads, a filing-system which could only be described as perfection and her ability to casually call people out on misogyny. He fell in love with her when she yelled at the President for five straight minutes about the pay-gap between men and women when Nicholas was too busy dealing with a sighting of the Winter Soldier to get to his office on time. A meager four weeks later, a bill passed in Congress that made unequal pay for equal work illegal. Afterwards she came into his office with a bottle of Tequila, celebrating Alexandra Morrison down in accounting and the beautiful way she had yelled at everyone else for the way women of color were especially prone to an unsatisfying salary. He already knew that Darcy had a tendency to put others on front of herself, but he had never seen it as blatant as that day. That was the reason he took a shot of a drink that wasn’t unsealed in front of his eyes, knowing that Darcy would never be responsible for _any_ death, certainly not his.

 

“How come?” Nicholas asked, tearing himself away from the memory of all those months ago.

“Because I thought you died.” Nicholas had long since resigned himself to the fact that Darcy Anne Lewis would always make him want to do everything he shouldn’t want to, but this? The urge to drag himself up and gather her in his arms, even though he _knew_ that she would be completely fine on her own? Well, it wasn’t as new a feeling as he’d like to think, he thought with a familiar resignation. Still, he wasn’t a complete idiot and heard the way her voice didn’t tremble and knew she didn’t need coddling.

“Really? I thought it was because my paranoid means kept me alive.” If the smile wasn’t obvious on his lips, it was in his eyes. Her laugh wasn’t the clear thing he’d come to like (love), but at least the grating sound was something.

“You’re such an asshole,” Darcy rose from the bed, and Nicholas ignored the way he missed the press of her thigh against his.

“You knew that when you accepted my job offer,” He said, knowing exactly which buttons to press to make her frustrated. He was fully able to admit that the pigtail pulling brought him immense joy. Well, he was capable of admitting it to _himself_ , at least.

 

“You _disappeared_ me and taught me how to use a gun! That is not a job offer, that’s the beginning of Stockholm syndrome, you asshat,” She muttered, leaning down and fluffing up the pillows.

“Are you aggressively fluffing my pillows?”

“I didn’t ever think I’d be able to get you to sat the word ‘fluffing’, like ever, but that was _so_ much better than I could ever imagine.”

“Your aspirations in life leaves something to be desired,” Nicholas commented wryly, keeping himself distracted from the feel of Darcy’s fingertips dancing over his chest to check his bandages. He had been held in captivity and tortured for information several times in his long life, but even _then_ he wasn’t as aware of his nerve-endings as he was now.

“Both my aspirations _and_ my expectations were exceeded the minute Thor crashed into our car, so you can keep your pretty mouth shut,” She quipped, and was glad her voice was even. So yes, she had a thing for her boss, a thing which had quickly turned into _I’m in love and don’t understand what just happened_. Darcy knew it wasn’t unrequited, but she also knew acting on it would be _difficult_ to say the least, not even accounting for the age-difference. She left the bandages for the worst wounds to the professionals, but changed some of the smaller ones. They were still plenty big enough though, and they made her lips tight with worry. She gave him a blanket once she was done, having noticed the goose bumps popping out in the wake of her fingers. He’d been quiet when she worked, concentrating on his breathing.

 

“That is just sad.” Nicholas finally answered as he sat up and managed to do so without wincing.

“No, _this_ is sad,” She said, nodding her head towards Nicholas.

“How?” He furrowed his brow, not really enjoying the way he needed her help getting into the t-shirt, but he was only stubborn when he had to be.

“You just got shot, Nick!” She yelled, finally losing some of the control she was clinging to with bloodied fingertips. Her shoulders were wound tight; eyes quickly filled with unshed tears. Nicholas didn’t know if they were of sorrow or frustration or anger or something else, but did know the way Maria and Steve left the room outside was very smart.

“That’s the job,” He murmured, and this time it was his hand that sought hers out. She didn’t say anything about it, just held on. Darcy opened her eyes and looked down at the man sitting ramrod-straight in his bed, the scars light against his dark skin, which dotted his abdomen. There was a slightly longer one going down his right shoulder, but it was so old it was nearly faded. The Infinity Serum in his body could have helped with that, but she didn’t know enough to make any assumptions based in reality. The scar served as a reminder, though; that he had done this since she was toddler, maybe even longer. And he was the Director for a reason, and he was _good_ at his job. Still…

“That doesn’t make it easier to be told that you’re dead, and I know… I know that we don’t talk about _this_ ,” Darcy flapped a hand between them, sheer force of will keeping her from breaking eye contact. Distantly a voice in her head asked her if she should really do this now, or ever really, but she’d already waited long enough.

 

“That we don’t talk about how I give you white chocolate and you keep me from succumbing to the horrors of panic attacks, that I list you as emergency contact and you list me as soft spot and we look at each other in secret and that’s _that_. Because I look at you and I see the Director of SHIELD, but I also see the man who forces me to go home at night, and you look at me and see a girl too young to know what she wants, even though that’s nothing more than an excuse because you’re Nick Fury and he _does not get attached_. And I – We’re complicated and difficult and maybe not even a possibility, but Nick… Somewhere along the line I fell in love with you and I know that it isn’t one-sided, I _know_ that! So… Yes. I know that this is the job, but that doesn’t make it _easier_ to be told that you _died_ , that-!”

 

She had to stop herself to breathe, but the way Nicholas hadn’t eased the grip on her small hand, and the way his other had curled around her waist helped. Darcy was too busy keeping herself composed to see the way his pulse had raised a bit on the monitor. If this was any other situation, if Nicholas was able to make any noise at all, he would have said something about the importance of being _aware of your surroundings, Lewis, I’d rather you didn’t die on my watch_ , and she would answer something like _oh please, as if you’d let anything happen to me and subsequently my stash of white chocolate_ because Darcy Lewis was secretly a word-snob. And no, the fact that she had been the one to invent that word does in no way contradict that statement. As it was though, this wasn’t like that. This wasn’t a training session in the gym where everyone quietly wondered why the Director was so intent on making sure his assistant could keep herself safe he trained her himself and how said assistant made him laugh when he tackled her to the ground.

 

This was _real_ , not a drill. Darcy was told Nicholas had died and her chest felt like it was nothing more than a burning, gaping hole. And the fact that he was somehow still alive didn’t change that one day _wouldn’t be_.

 

Darcy’s voice was quiet when she continued, but bright and brave set of her eyes had Nicholas once again questioning exactly why _weak_ was a description anyone would _ever_ apply to Miss Lewis.

“That doesn’t make it easier because one day you will actually die. One day Marcus Johnson won’t be there to step in when you take a leave of absence and I… Well, I’ll survive. Because that’s what I do, I _survive_. But it won’t be the same, because you’re a stupid fucking idiot who took a look around in my heart and promptly sat the fuck down.” Even in the midst of the love-confession of the ages she couldn’t keep herself from rolling her eyes, and Nicholas honestly hadn’t expected anything else. He was surprised it had taken that long, to be honest.

 

“And you’re a bit rude, and sometimes I can see you looking out the window and I know you’re considering just getting up and leaving. But you don’t. Because you’re Nicholas Fury Fucking Junior and the world as we know it exists because you’re there to clean up the messes, so you get back to the paperwork. And I don’t where I’m going with this, other than… I’m in love with you, even when you’re angry because no one else understands the importance of keeping the coffeepot full. “

 

Despite her short nature Darcy stood tall before him, a soft smile on her red lips.

“I’m in love with you too, though I’m sure you already knew that,” Nicholas finally said, a smile of his own beginning to take form.

“You don’t have three paragraphs of speech to tell me why?”

“You’re the one with a degree in Political Science, not me,”

“Come on Nicky, read me a sonnet or two,”

“Don’t ever call me Nicky again.”

“Does that mean you’ll read me a sonnet?”

“Jesus Christ, shut up,”

 

Nicholas stood up, hand going for the back of her head and tilting her head up. There was laughter spilling through Darcy’s lips, but it stilled when she let them meet Nicholas’. It was soft and delicate and she had to be mindful of the arm in a sling between them. That didn’t stop her from sighing into his mouth, letting her tongue swipe over his teeth, her own biting gently at his lower lip. Nicholas’ hand moved from her waist to a warm and firm grip in the small of her back as Darcy let her fingers trail up his uninjured arm, laughing softly when she went downwards again and felt the goose bumps.

“I thought my fingers were cold,” She whispered, but didn’t let him answer. Nicholas honestly couldn’t really remember she’d even said anything when her warm lips caught his again.

“Yeah, well. Look what just a few minutes can do,” He said once he’d regained his voice, _again_ , letting his finger stroke her cheek _because he could do that now_. They were still slightly puffy from the crying, and he hated himself a bit for doing that to her. Nicholas knew it had to be done, for everyone’s safety, but then again… _Darcy_. It wasn’t the first time he’d wished things were different wherever she was involved, and it wouldn’t be the last.

 

Jesus Christ, at this rate he could _write_ the goddamn sonnets. Because he actually could, and if she asked he probably would. And he would do it because Darcy was far from perfect, but she made him feel like saving the lives of others was just as important as having one of his own.

 

(Darcy laughed as loud and carefree as only she could when he got drunk and read her the one and only one he ever wrote, not even caring about how it paid more attention to her taser than her beauty. She figured that even though their love-story was one for the ages, _they_ sure as hell weren’t going to write it.)

**Author's Note:**

> All the characters belong to their creators and blah blah blah please don't sue me. If I need to go to court I have to tell my parents and that's just MEAN! Seriously.


End file.
